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Post by Unter on Jul 13, 2018 11:32:03 GMT -8
The party advanced on crackling ground. The heat was almost unbearable. It was weird to witness such sunshine : Was it the hamlet that banished such comfort ? Why here, so close to the Darkest Dungeon, was it dry as a twig ? It felt like the grass on the ground, brown like leather, could catch fire with merely a touch. What a time for the swines to attack ! But they had answered the call. Be it the call of altruism or the call of gold, that was the adventurer's decision. Why did they come ? It would be important to remember, when the call of battle comes.
The golden fields of Rhampshire shone under the heat. The wheats were waving under a nice, cooling breeze, but oddly enough, no farmers were here to tend to their occupations. One thing was like a drop of ink on an undisturbed sheet : An enormous column of smoke rouse from the west. Truely, the swines had come. The Heir had hoped that Rhampshire's mayor panicked, and upon seeing a few beastmen called upon the Hamlet's mercenaries, and he sent a few as an avant-garde. Maybe they would triumph, maybe. As long as the granaries stood, everything would be good.
The adventurers arrived at a wooden gate. It was the only way to enter through the northern section of the wall. Rhampshire wasn't a citadel, and the walls were only two meters high, with no parapets. It was mainly to discourage bandit attacks, or the occasional warring forces that may have roamed in the past. The wooden gate was hastily reinforced with planks, nails and sweat, but for now there were closed. The only guard tower was a wooden construction, it was mainly meant for scouting out the enemy on a vantage point. When the adventurers were seen, a figure rushed out and shouted for someone. Now, a somewhat small man stood on the tower. His face was scarred, and a topknot was his only hairstyle. It was odd. But his main feature was that he had lost an eye. A fiery eyepatch, painted red, with the drawing of a fierce eye stood in its place. The man asked in a rocky voice.
"Are you here to flaming help us or will you be another bloody weight on my flaming shoulders in this fucking shit hole of a bloody town ?"
He seemed tense.
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Post by Outisakanobody on Jul 13, 2018 11:43:41 GMT -8
"Hello my good man, we have indeed come to offer our assistance to you and this place." Lance calls out. He wasn't wearing his full armor for fear of overheating, so he appeared as he was, a young, handsome boy, earnestly looking up at the one eyed man.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Jul 13, 2018 13:06:38 GMT -8
There was a man, Brio, that lingered to the back of the group, hand on the pommel of his sheathed sword.
He had a sharp nose on a rather gaunt face, with slicked-back, smoke-colored hair. His coal-black eyes squinted at the column of smoke jutting into the sky with some distaste.
That's where they needed to be, but here they were, placating some coward up high on his tower.
Brio kept his mouth shut, trusting that it'd be faster if this Lance did most of the talking.
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Post by brazilianguy on Jul 13, 2018 14:38:37 GMT -8
/ Sascha Holzmann, Verner and Milo /
Since Rhampshire appeared on the horizon, Sascha stopped simply walking toward the city. Several times she left the road, working together with Verner and Milo, her dogs, investigating and discovering the terrain, analyzing the river and its depth, talking to herself and her dogs aloud, as if this allowed her to make a mental notes.
When the company arrived at the gate, Sascha hurried to join the group. Coming last, along with Verner and Milo, she just stood back there, along with the old man. She looked deeply at the man on the wooden tower, with his analytical, semi closed eyes. She could not wait to ask important questions and get to know the structure of the city.
Sweat dripped from her face, but she did not seem to care. Her mind was totally focused on the matter. Sascha was not traveling anymore... she was hunting. |
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Post by Aeronaux on Jul 17, 2018 3:32:41 GMT -8
He stayed between the middle of the group, but closer to the tail end than the front. The sweltering heat was beating at his face, yet still he refuses to pull his scarf down for air. Gold had lured him come to this damnable place rumored to carry horrors none had seen before, but of what exactly he has yet to discover.
Sirius silently let the assumed leader talk, but already he was checking his guns, his ammo at the ready, and the sharpness of his blades. God forbid, however, that he's needed to be up close and personal.
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Post by orwelles on Jul 28, 2018 17:30:45 GMT -8
Uain glanced at the patchwork fortifications,trying to estimate how many villagers had been lost erecting them.
Turning towards the guard, he cocked his finger towards the roiling smoke. "How long has that been there?"
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Post by Unter on Aug 11, 2018 11:09:20 GMT -8
Igor sniffed, as he signaled for the heavy doors to open. He looked at Lance, a heavy armoured Crusader.
"At least you look capable enough to hold your own. I have to manage this bloody militia, so rag-tag you wouldn't even want to wipe your ass with their clothes ! But come, come. We are in dire need of your aid."
As the party advanced, Igor opened his arms wide. He glanced at Uuain.
"Far as I know, these blasted walls have always been there. I arrived five years ago, when I married my girl. I hope they'll hold. The area always was unstable. Bandits problem, you know the drill."
He looked west, and mesured the heavy column of smoke.
"But this time... It's not humans hand that will slaughter Rhampshire's people. The swines comes ! They decimated our vanguard. They were sacrificed to win the time we live on right now. Let's go !"
He signaled the militia to close the northern door, and he brought the party to a bridge, to the west. On the right and west side, granaries could be seen. They were the main target for the hamlet's mercenaries. The only thing that could be seen beyond the bridge were endless fields of golden wheat. Sheer heat could be felt emanating from the fields, and it felt like a sparkle could make the biggest fire in Rhampshire's history.
Igor shouted to the militia
"Form ranks you incultured swines ! When the beast come, I want no bloody gaps, you hear me ?! You will fight, die, and then fight some more ! If one of those granaries fall, you will regret ever being born !"
He looked embarassed, and laughed with the mercenary.
"I sure hope a Tilly isn't watching me right now. I'd be so embarrassed. But you see, it's from there that the bulk of the attack will come. They will come soon, so we still have a little time to do some little preparations. You can ask around, see if there's something y'all can do. And if you have an idea, don't hesitate. Do it."
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Post by Outisakanobody on Sept 4, 2018 8:28:16 GMT -8
Lance looked around, appreciating the picturesque fields. Then he looked over his companions, gazing down on them from his literal high horse. "Well then, what shall we do to help these folks? Any ideas?" he asks the them.
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Post by Vanitypirate on Jan 19, 2019 3:21:29 GMT -8
Brio followed silently through the town, flicking some beads of cooling sweat off of his furrowed brows.
Rampshire seemed to be in better straits than the Darkest Estate; there was a grand cathedral that could be spotted from any place in town, Brio reckoned. It was as though every stone within a league's radius of this town had been dedicated to constructing this great veneration of the Light...
...and whatever in blazes a 'Tilly' is.
Regardless, it could be surmised that the townsfolk would be easily swayed.
"Where are you keeping your wounded?" Brio's voice was dry and hoarse, as though ash caked his throat.
"...I bear the Light's gifts; let me use them to mend their wounds before the fighting begins."
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Post by brazilianguy on Jan 29, 2019 5:31:34 GMT -8
/ Sascha Holzmann, Verner and Milo /
"One-eyed man, come here. We'll need you. I want some answers."
Sascha invites with her hand the man who received them from above the wooden tower.
"I need to know more about the enemy. They are smart? Do they kill to eat, for pleasure or revenge? I want to know their motivation", the huntress had not yet any encounters with the creatures of the region, she honestly did not know what to expect and questioning was key to not lost the confidence.
"We need a map of the city. How close are the buildings to each other? Can your people connect their roofs with boards to move between them from the top? Do you have cattle and poison that you can spare for the safety of the barns?", she asked, already thinking of diversion tactics to weaken the main incursion.
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Post by Unter on Feb 18, 2019 5:22:35 GMT -8
The party walked in the wide street -the only thing that could be called "wide" in this cramped town-, guided by Igor. Shutters were closed, doors were barred. The women and the childrens were all hauled off to the Cathedral on the hill, hopeful that the day would end in a victory, or that at least the swine would be pushed off.
In front of them was a large-ish bridge, 2 meters (6,5 feet) wide. On it, a ragtag troup of militia tried its best to close ranks, but the discipline was lacking, and the will almost non-existent. Igor tried the best he could, but the swine came here quickly. The one-eyed man looked at the newly-appointed sergeant of the troup.
"You hear me Harold ? I gave you this bloody rank so that these boys wouldn't fall on their bloody sword when the swine come. I trust you, damn it ! You will hold the line !"
After this, he turned to the party of mercenaries. He gave them another long look of judgement. The defense of Rhampshire was necessary if the Heir wants to keep his nice food deal. And Igor was payed a hefty sum to keep those granaries intact. But he didn't expect the Heir to send so few reinforcements. What was he going to do with those ? At least, they looked battle-ready. And they even had a healer. He gave a quick look to Brio, and said.
"Thanks for the proposition, Sister. But for now, the only thing we have in shortage are bloody wounded. Don't worry about that, though. The swines are coming. Come to think of it, they butchered our hunters in the forest. Only one came back to warn us. He lost a lot of blood but... He's over there. If you can do one thing, it would be helpful. Our bloody doctor nodded off to the bloody cathedral. Cowardly bastard."
He then looked at Sascha, that clearly looked like the most organised of the bunch. He actually smiled at her, a rare sight in these dark days.
"A map? They don't have those around here. All the building are close enough to each other to leap on the roof with a quick jump, and to create a bloody dedal of streets and hookerholes. I swear, it's even worse than London. All you need to know, is this : We need to protect those granaries."
He lowered his voice, for there was some things that some people didn't need to know.
"I don't care if the militia dies here, as long as they protect these bloody buildings. I have them bunched up on the bridge, the only hole in this bloody wall. Plus, it directly face the direction of the attack.
We don't know how much swine there are there. And we don't know anything about them. They're beasts, they're nasty, and they want to kill us and pillage our bloody town. I won't let my wife be raped and munched to death by a bloody french-looking beast."
He sighed.
"All I know is that they're coming in numbers. And that a good knife can gut them as good as it can to any human. What's good is that we will see them coming. The fields are bursting with grain, even with the drought that rendered them as dry as a bloody twig. They could lose time trying to forage whatever food they can. We can stuff them full of arrows during this.
And I don't know if you've noticed, but every farmer in this bloody place is either dead, on the bridge, or has fled. We don't have time to get the cattle, even if I get your idea."
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Post by Outisakanobody on Feb 18, 2019 5:33:17 GMT -8
Lance rode up on his horse, as if to inspect the militia. Clearly they were not seasoned fighters, but neither was he. He looked at their equipment, knowing that pikes or spears or any polearm would be the best weapon for this...lot to use, given their (lack of) training and the location of the battle. He did make a mental note to inspect the whole wall to see if this was indeed the only hole in it. He tried to see what he could from the bridge of it's construction, it's age, it's thickness.
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